


i'll crawl home to her

by bothsexuals



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Basically, F/M, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bothsexuals/pseuds/bothsexuals
Summary: It turned out there was a place souls went to after death—true death, not that half-death that cursed Bly Manor, but a real death, the kind that was promised to finally bring peace and quietude.Hannah wasn’t sure what the place was, whether it was Heaven or Purgatory, or perhaps nothing of the sort. All she knew was that it must have been different for each soul, and that it wasn’t Hell, it could never be, for in fact it had taken the form of the place she had most felt joy in—the kitchen of Bly Manor.or: Owen and Hannah find each other after death.
Relationships: Hannah Grose/Owen Sharma
Comments: 19
Kudos: 74





	i'll crawl home to her

**Author's Note:**

> I am very busy and I have my first exam tomorrow but for some reason as I took a nice little break I got this idea and I was like well, let's go! So, here. Enjoy! 
> 
> Title from Hozier's "Work Song".

It turned out there was a place souls went to after death—true death, not that half-death that cursed Bly Manor, but a real death, the kind that was promised to finally bring peace and quietude. 

Hannah wasn’t sure what the place was, whether it was Heaven or Purgatory, or perhaps nothing of the sort. All she knew was that it must have been different for each soul, and that it wasn’t Hell, it could never be, for in fact it had taken the form of the place she had most felt joy in—the kitchen of Bly Manor. 

How peculiar that after a life so intensely lived, that would be the place for her to spend eternity in; not one of the gorgeous towns she had visited in her youth, not the house she had shared with her husband, but that kitchen, forever linked in her mind to the one person who had loved her most—and she had always known, she realized now it was too late, despite his never having said so, not with those words at least, but he’d said it a thousand other ways each day. 

Well, that was the place that God, or whatever forces controlled the fate of souls after death, had chosen for her to wait in. Wait for what, she wasn’t quite sure, she couldn’t tell, but she knew she was waiting. 

The kitchen was quite beautiful, a pile of her favorite books resting on the table for her to read over and over as she waited for something beautiful and unknown, a warm cup of tea much better than Dani’s always waiting, and a feeling of hope like she’d never felt in life always filling her heart. 

She wasn’t quite sure what qualified as days there, or if those even existed, but she slept sometimes—she imagined she didn’t need it, but she still did, because she could, and because it passed the time, if time even existed there, as she waited. 

And each day—or what she had decided would be days to her—she woke to a teacup filled and a feeling of hope renewed, and the knowledge that whatever she was waiting for was a little closer now. And so it was everyday, every sliver of eternity which she called day, until one day she couldn’t drink her tea, for her hands trembled so much she would have spilled it, and she felt something like a flutter of her heart, felt more alive than she ever had in life, and she knew, then, the wait was almost over.

And so she slept—or rather, closed her eyes with the knowledge that something would change when she opened them again, and let herself slip out of whatever it was she thought of as consciousness now. 

“Hannah,” a voice called, and she opened her eyes. It was the first voice she’d heard since her soul had been freed from the cold grip of Bly Manor, and it was the voice she had dreamed of every day since she had first heard it. 

“Are you real?” she asked. 

Owen chuckled. “No idea. Are you?” 

She smiled. “As real as one can be after death.” 

“You’ve always been more real than all else to me,” he softly replied, “even then.” 

She stood, and Owen took her hand. “I died,” he said, “I was old and I died, looking at your photo on my bedside table, where it’s always been. And then I opened my eyes, as if waking from a long sleep, and—”

“And now you’re here,” Hannah whispered. “You’re not just in my head now, are you? Being tucked away, it was different. I know it’s you. _My_ Owen.” 

“Yours indeed, love,” Owen breathed, “for all my life.” He looked around the kitchen. “Have you always been here? Since—” he looked down sadly, as if still heartbroken over her death, after all those years, after even _he_ had died. 

“Dani freed us,” Hannah said, “and after Bly Manor, I was here.” Her eyes searched his, and she couldn’t help the tear that escaped them. “And I was waiting.” She raised her hand slowly, the one he wasn’t holding onto, and brushed her fingers to his cheek. “I think I was waiting for you, Owen.” She let her hand rest on his cheek, and caught the tear that rolled onto it. 

“I love you, Hannah,” he whispered, “I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you. From that moment on, there was only you.” 

“I always thought,” Hannah replied in the same low tone, repeating the words she had said so long before to a much less real Owen, “I would very much like to spend the rest of my days with you, listening to your awful puns, holding your hand and—” she smiled “—loving you. Truly and deeply, with all my heart.” 

“I could’ve asked for nothing more, love,” Owen choked out. “I thought of you every single day. I, uh—” he chuckled “—I opened a restaurant in Paris. I called it _A Batter Place_ , because of the way you had laughed when—” 

She shook her head, laughing brightly. “God, I have missed those.” 

“I’ve got more,” he cheekily replied. 

“It seems we’ve got an eternity of terrible puns and chemistry lessons ahead of us,” Hannah said.

“Sounds like heaven.” 

“It truly does, doesn’t it?” 

Owen caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, slowly, his eyes fixed on hers as he did so. 

“I know we’ve got eternity,” he whispered, “but nevertheless, I’d rather not waste any more time.” 

“No,” Hannah whispered back, her eyes already half-closed, “I don’t think you should.” 

She closed her eyes, not to sleep this time, but to be kissed, to be loved by the man she had adored since the moment she had first laid eyes on him, and it felt realer than most things had felt on earth, though they were only souls now—perhaps air, perhaps nothing more than a dream, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, for they finally had what they had longed for for so long. 

They had each other, they had the quiet, cozy kitchen their love had blossomed in, and they had peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this—if you did, I'd love it if you left some kudos and comments!


End file.
